


Snitches get Stiches

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Dacryphilia, Enemas, F/M, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starts in episode 7 Spirit of the goat (believe that's the episode. If not one before or after...) This is a what if story where instead of Maroni giving Falcone Indian Hill to keep Oswald in his employ, he makes a deal with Fish for recompense much to Oswald's terror and Fish's satisfaction!</p><p>Co-written with SickoLady. I wrote for Oswald, Maroni, and Falcone. SickoLady wrote for Fish and Timothy. WARNING! This is a VERY dark fic with VERY dark themes. Includes brutal spanking, rape, and an enema. Considering the pairing, Fish isn’t one to be very nice especially given her and Oswald’s relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snitches get Stiches

 

 

                Maroni had agreed to meet with Falcone and Fish to end the skirmish between the two families as a war was never good for business. There had to be a compromise realized in order to attain peace, and when it came down to details, Fish had wanted Oswald dead, but that wasn’t going to happen.

                Maroni did however offer a concession as he personally was not fond of a snitch any more than the rest. He wanted what Cobblepot had to offer him yes, but there was some small part of him that wanted to make Oswald pay for what he did to, “I’ll tell you what, my man Penguin did you wrong, I get that. How about you take him home as your guest to ‘discuss’ your differences?”

                Fish visibly brightened while Oswald paled sputtering in his fear, “Don Maroni, no! You can’t! She’ll kill me!”

                Holding up a hand while still looking to Falcone and Mooney, Oswald quieted reluctantly and Maroni continued, “As I was saying, I’ll let you have Penguin as long as you can promise to return him to me in relatively the same state… no broken bones, missing fingers, in other words no permanent damage. I do want to start fresh with no ill will between us. Is that a reasonable trade?”

                Fish grinned maliciously, "If the yellow rat snitch bastard is so important to you, then I suppose I can make that compromise.”

                Shaking his head in denial Oswald looked from Fish to Falcone; his eyes pleaded silently to Carmine to intercede, but the old man gave him no leeway simply nodding, "If this is agreeable to you Fish let it be done, so we can all get back to business."

                "Of course, Don Falcone," said Fish, her sadistic grin broadening. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of what could be a very profitable business arrangement. You hand Penguin over to me for a couple of days, and let me teach that little punk a lesson."

                Oswald was visibly shaken as he spun to face Maroni now seeing Falcone had no intention of saving him from such a fate, "Don Maroni please reconsider! She can't be trusted! As soon as she has me in her clutches I'm as good as dead!"

                Maroni merely laughed slapping Oswald on the shoulder, "Relax kid, Miss Mooney isn't interested in starting a war when we're working out an acceptable deal."

                Oswald's voice rose an octave, "I don’t find this in any way an acceptable deal! I beg of you Don Maroni, please see reason!"

                Frowning now Maroni rose a hand to silence Oswald, "Enough. Just take the licks you got coming to ya, and we can move on from this nonsense. She gave her word," Maroni glanced back to Falcone, "and her word is also that of Falcone's."

                Falcone nodded his agreement which was enough for Maroni as the larger man gave Oswald a shove into Fish's direction, "He's all yours."

                Oswald was white with fear as his wide eyes assessed Fish. He held out his hands in supplication, "Please Fish, we can talk about this I'm sure."

                Fish shook her head slowly, "There's nothing to discuss," she said. "You broke my heart, Oswald. I took you under my wing, trusted you with all of my most damning secrets, then, the first chance you got, you turned around and betrayed that trust. This is a matter of respect. No one makes a fool of Fish Mooney and gets away with it."

                Fish put a hand on one of Oswald's trembling shoulders in a mock gesture of comfort.

"But don't worry baby, Mama's gonna' make sure you make it outta' this ok," she crooned mockingly digging her long manicured nails into the shoulder of Oswald's suit jacket.

                Oswald reflexively cringed at her touch his head whipping back to see that Maroni had already turned his back on him walking off towards his car, goons in tow. Oswald wanted to scream out at his retreating back that he couldn’t wait to prove what a mistake Maroni was making by tossing him to the wolves like this. Oswald would make him sorry, but those words he swallowed only choking out a less than flattering sucking in of a hitched breath as he turned back to see the hungry gleam in Fish’s eyes.

                Carmine had also turned to leave, he was alone with Fish now, and she’d been given the keys to seed her revenge as she saw fit for at least the next few days. Oswald’s terror became almost palpable now as even with the stipulation that she could not do any lasting physical harm, he was more than sure she was imaginative enough to make him quite sorry he had crossed her.

                He cleared his throat addressing Fish with as much respect as he could muster, “Miss Mooney, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but before you do anything rash, how about we take a moment to first discuss what I can do for you as a friend before you solidify any actions that would irreparably make us enemies.

                "You think you can sweet talk your way out of trouble, young man? Well, this should be amusing. I'll humor you," said Fish. "What can you do for me?"

                Oswald relaxed slightly a little relived that Fish was going to at least hear him out, “I’ve got my hands in a lot of operations. You know how resourceful I can be, and with that in mind, having a friend on Maroni’s end means I can tip you off to avenues you may also see to be advantageous. I can be your eyes and ears in this city! You could always be five steps ahead with my help. You can’t tell me that isn’t of value to you?”

                "Fool me once, Penguin, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Do you think I'm stupid? With your track record for betrayal, why on earth should I trust you?" Fish spat.

                He was losing ground, he applied flattery, “Of course not! I wouldn’t be so foolish as to test you in such a fashion again! You’ve proven to be much more cunning than I had originally anticipated when I made the mistake of betraying you. Please let me make it up to you. Surely there is something I can do to prove to you that you can trust me again.”

                "Sorry, Oswald. I'm afraid you can't be trusted. Obviously you're planning to betray me again. Really, it’s insulting that you think I'll fall for it. We're wasting time," replied Fish in irritation.

                She was becoming bored with Oswald's stalling as well as pissed off by the confidence with which he addressed her. He really thought he was so smart, didn't he? He really thought that by comparison she was a blithering idiot. A blithering idiot who would release him scot-free if he gave her a false apology and some phony promises.

 

                Fish walked closer to Oswald and poked him in the chest with her index finger, “Time for your punishment," she growled.

                "Alright boys, toss him in the trunk; let's take him to the club!" Fish shouted at her henchmen.

                A couple of Fish's underlings grabbed Oswald by his arms and dragged him toward the trunk of Fish's car. Fish walked to the car, sat down in the driver's side seat and pulled the door shut. She smirked to herself evilly as she watched her henchmen slam the trunk shut in the driver's side mirror.

She couldn't wait to have Oswald all to herself.

...

                Fish arrived at the club, parked in the spot reserved for her outside, and then ordered her henchmen to release Oswald from the trunk. The two goons lifted a trembling Oswald out of the trunk, and half dragged, half carried him toward the entrance of the building. Once they were inside, Fish locked the front door with a key.

                "You can let him go now," she said to her henchmen. "He won't run from this if he knows what's good for him."

                Fish's goons released Oswald's arms and he stumbled forward toward Fish.

                Oswald had resisted, but Fish’s men threw him effortlessly into her trunk. Throughout the ride, he desperately tried to plan a way out of the current mess he now found himself in. How could Maroni or Falcone leave him to suffer like this? Was he worth so little to them? He was feeling terrified and full of self-pity by the time the car jerked to a stop and he was pulled bodily out of the trunk and shoved into Fish’s club. Fish’s amusement was self-evident as he was tossed at her feet.

                Oswald stared up at her with wide eyes as he gulped staggering to his feet; his heart was in his throat now seeing the promise of pain in her eyes, “You’re making a mistake!” He all but yelled trying to muster all the confidence he could although he was shaking like a leaf.

                "Shut up," Fish snapped. She sat down in one of the chairs in the room and patted her lap, glaring at Oswald threateningly. "Because you're such a brat, why don't you come over here, bend over Mama's lap and take a spanking."

                Fish figured that giving Oswald a severe spanking would be the best way to punish him without causing him permanent damage. As an added bonus, it would humiliate him. She grinned to herself, deciding ahead of time that she would switch from her hand to the steel baseball bat after he was nice and red.      

                Oswald blinked letting her words register, a spanking? His eyes spanned the room noting the more than amused henchmen standing idly by almost daring him to refuse to play along. His eyes drifted to the floor. He knew that she planned on finding ways to torture him, and he expected pain and lots of it, but he hadn’t expected those ways to make him burn in shame. Oswald’s mouth twisted in to a deep frown as he moved closer to Fish. Once he’d come within a few feet of her Oswald groveled, “Please don’t do this.” He had never been spanked before, not that he’d admit such to Fish, but the whole idea of it felt surreal and awkward. He didn’t even know where to begin.

                "What's a 'matter Oswald? You afraid of a spanking?" Fish inquired of him mockingly. "Your little white boy ass never been spanked before?"

                Oswald’s eyes narrowed hatefully at her as he spat, “No, my mother was never fond of barbarism.” As soon as the words left his lips he had regretted saying them as he took a step backward dropping to his knees in front of Fish and giving her his last and most sincere attempt at diplomacy, “I know that you want to humiliate me for getting over on you Miss Mooney, but once you cross this threshold, there really is no going back. I swear to you that if you spare me such indignities that I will bestow upon you more born fruit than such petty revenge will sustain you with.”

                "Jesus, kid. I know you're pretentious but I didn't even understand that last comment. More born fruit than such what, what, what, huh now?" said Fish, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. "How hard do you think I'll have to spank you to make you talk normal?"

                Oswald swallowed hard, "You don't have to be so condescending." He didn't want to move, it was as if he were frozen in place just staring up at her with a mournful expression.

                "I'm getting tired of this, Oswald. Get over here right now before I make you get over here," Fish hissed.

                He was half tempted to make her wait figuring the slight delay to the inevitable was preferable, but then he didn't want to anger her more than she already appeared to be. He trembled all over now as he rose to his feet and inched up beside her, "If it's any consolation, I am truly sorry for any damage my actions may have caused you." Oswald wasn't holding his breath that he had any hope of preventing what was about to take place, but he hoped his words might inspire a little mercy.

                "Do you think I'm an idiot? I know as well as anyone that you're not sorry," said Fish.

                Oswald stammered, "Na...no of course not. I...I idolized you! Just because we parted on bad terms doesn't mean that I wished it that way." He wrung his hands in his apprehension standing next to her now but unsure how to proceed next.

                Fish was becoming impatient. On top of that, she was also becoming very angry. Oswald thought that he could stall and stall and stall for so long that he'd save himself the punishment. He thought he could trick her with false complements, then immediately turn around and stab her in the back again. That cute little "please don't hurt me" expression may have worked once, a long time ago, back when she had still trusted him, but it certainly wasn't going to work now. No matter HOW thick he laid it on.

                Fish turned to her Henchmen, "Bind his arms and legs for me. I'll drag him kicking and screaming on to my lap if I have to!" she instructed menacingly.

                Oswald moved quickly to lay himself across her lap, "I... I didn't mean to anger you! I assure you that you don't need to restrain me!" Being bound was a more terrifying prospect for certain.

                "I should handcuff you anyway, as punishment for all of that insolent stalling," said Fish. "Be uncooperative again and it WILL happen."

 

                With this warning, Fish lifted the tail of Oswald's suit jacket. The contours of his butt were now visible through the fabric of his black slacks. Fish raised her knee, forcing Oswald's butt higher into the air, “Unzip your pants and pulls them down," she instructed coldly.

                Oswald stiffened at the feeling of Fish moving his jacket away and the trembling already present became more pronounced as he felt his ass raised higher in the air. He blushed furiously feeling acutely aware of his vulnerability and let escape a small whimper at her demand to bare himself. Oswald didn't argue though as he knew to do so would only earn him a harsher punishment. With shaking hands, he reached under himself doing as Fish had instructed pushing his pants down just enough to hang off right at the cleft of his ass.

                Fish grinned amorously as she observed Oswald's pale trembling bottom. He looked so undignified laying bent over her lap with his pants pulled down.

                Raising her hand into the air, Fish brought the palm of her hand down hard, smacking Oswald's upturned bottom. His butt cheeks clenched involuntarily and a mild pinkness spread over the area where her hand had landed.

                Oswald had meant to keep silent for as long as he was able not wanting to seem like he couldn't take something as ridiculous as a child's punishment, but when Fish's hand crashed down with such stinging force, he couldn't help arching his back with a sudden jerky motion as he let out a very shameful yelp. It was then that he knew for certain that by the time Fish finished with him, he'd be lucky to have a shred of dignity left.

                Fish raised her hand again and brought it down hard, striking Oswald in the place where his butt cheeks met the tops of his thighs. His bottom jiggled from the force of the blow and a loud smack echoed through the room. She raised her hand again and laid down a series of hard slaps in rapid succession.

                Oswald grit his teeth against the barrage of swats Fish laid down unable to stop his body from involuntarily twisting and writhing as the pain blossomed across his ass. He let out small grunts and gasps willing himself to keep from screaming out even as he felt that it would not be long before he did so anyway. The thought of crying out so pathetically as Fish did this to him infuriated him and embarrassed him on so many levels that his face flushed almost as red as the rising welts from Fish's unrelenting palm.

                Fish grinned evilly. She grabbed the steel baseball bat that was lying next to the chair and raised it up, prepared to strike Oswald's behind with it. Just then, Butch entered the room. Butch was also aware of Maroni's arrangement with Fish and knew that the Don would be very angry if Oswald sustained any permanent damage from this encounter.

                "Put the bat down, Fish," said Butch calmly. "You'll start a war if Maroni's favorite henchman crawls out of here a paraplegic."

                "Oh come on, Butch," said Fish tilting her head flirtatiously, "I was just going to give him a few strokes with it. Teach him a lesson."

                "You know it’s too risky," said Butch flatly.

                Fish shook her head. As much as she hated to admit it, Butch had a point. She could break a wimp like Oswald without resorting to such extreme methods.     

                "Fine," grumbled Fish, "I suppose you have a point."

                She dropped the baseball bat. It made a heavy metallic noise as it hit the floor.

                "You better thank Butch, you pretentious little ingrate. He just saved you a lot of pain," said Fish.

                For his part, Oswald merely whined out a barely audible, “Thank you Butch,” in case she had been serious about him actually thanking the man. Oswald had been none the wiser to how close Fish had come to crossing the line, but if he had to guess, Fish would do her best to push the line in regards to leaving any lasting injury… he was sure psychologically there would be plenty of scarring.

                Fish unbuckled her fashionable brown leather belt and, with one swift decisive motion, pulled it loose from the loops of her jeans. Then she folded the belt in half and raised it up high into the air.

"I suppose you'll have to get the belt instead, Oswald," said Fish. She brought the belt down hard with a sharp CRACK! An angry red mark spread across Oswald's bright pink left butt cheek.

                Oswald cringed his breathing becoming labored as his anxiety grew at the sound of the supple leather sliding in one swift motion from around Fish’s waist. He hadn’t realized how sore he’d become until the belt met his already tender flesh. He did not hold back the surprised squall that erupted from his throat as the implement left a bite that continued to radiate its presence.

                Fish lifted the strap again and brought it down hard against Oswald's right butt cheek. Again, a loud CRACK echoed throughout the room. A crimson stain spread across Oswald's throbbing rear end.

                His face contorted in agony as he screamed and the belt kept raining down. They had only been going at this form of torture for a few minutes now and he had days to come. Already Oswald felt like he couldn’t take much more. He begged now his voice breaking at another particularly sharp cut of the leather, “Fish please grant me clemency! I know I don’t deserve an ounce of kindness from you, but I humbly beseech you to take pity on me!”

                "Wassamatter, Oswald?" Fish teased cruelly. "Your tushy hurt?" She smacked him with the strap again, reddening Oswald's already bright red butt. "Tell me how much it hurts, you big baby," she instructed mockingly.

                Oswald sucked in deep breaths of air wearing a deep frown with a trembling lip as he tried his hardest not to give Fish any more joy from his suffering, but the pain was blinding, and he bucked in desperation to move his very sore bottom from taking repeated hits in the same spot.

                The more the belt hit those same tender areas the more difficult it was to remain still until his hands finally shot back to cover his ass from the onslaught Fish was delivering. Oswald had met his threshold for pain and whined, “No more! No more! I can’t!” He clutched his ass his whole body pulled taught from the stress he felt as he stared back at Fish in desperation. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy with tears ready to fall; Oswald was surprised that he had kept the tears in thus far through sheer will, but that will was all but eroded now and his eyes now pleaded with Fish imploringly for a reprieve.

                Oswald moved his hands away from his ass quickly to avoid having them struck by the falling belt. Fish began striking Oswald's behind fast and hard, raising red welts on his heated butt cheeks, "How much does it hurt?" she asked again, her sadistic grin broadening.

                “Oh god! It hurts so bad!” Oswald all but screamed, “Please! Stop! STOP! I’m so sorry!” Oswald bucked so hard he almost slipped off Fish’s lap. He darted his hands over his ass getting them whacked with the belt only to withdraw them again as swiftly as he’d placed them over his very sore flesh. His voice warbled now as he continued to beg for her mercy, his shouts became shrieks of anguish followed by eventual sobbing tears as he lay limply on her lap his eyes downcast and too ashamed to leave the floor. His only movements now consisted of simple jerking in time to the registered pain to his backside as the belt continued to doll out punishment.

                "Hahahaha...," Fish laughed at him. She nodded in the direction of her henchmen, inviting them to share the joke. "Look, poor Oswald's crying! Ooh, is the big bad future king of Gotham's under world crying! Watch out you guys, he's going to be the big boss one day!"

                Fish grinned sinisterly. She knew that the best way to psychologically torment Oswald was to mock his ridiculous ambitions. She'd overheard him talking about it before. Even then the idea had made her laugh uncontrollably. Oswald, the big boss? She knew some soggy paper bags with magic marker faces drawn on them that would make a better boss than him. The idea that Oswald would ever be more than a dopey, scheming, low-level henchman was childish and absurd beyond measure.

                "Just kidding my little penguin," Fish chuckled cruelly, striking him with her belt. "What I meant to say is that-"

                Fish raised her belt and smacked Oswald's cherry red behind with it.

                "YOU."

                She smacked him again.

                "ARE."

                She smacked him again.

                "NOTHING."

                Oswald flinched at every lick as he clutched his hands to his ears trying his best to shut Fish’s scathing remarks out. His tears streamed in torrents down his cheeks, her words hitting as hard as her belt. Oswald winced lurching violently until finally he was unable to tolerate the sting of the belt or the sting to his pride any longer, and he sprung from her lap rolling on to the floor both hands rubbing fiercely at his burning bottom as he moaned pitifully.

                He felt so small thinking on the things that Fish had stated. Was the thought of him becoming something more than a simple lackey really such a joke? Feeling foolish and insignificant, Oswald had to wonder if Maroni had not assumed Fish would put him through the ringer and thought his plight amusing. It wouldn’t surprise him, and these realizations led Oswald’s cries to turn in to wracking sobs of defeat as he lowered his face to the ground doing his best to hide his humiliation.

                Fish pointed and laughed while he cried, "You're just a bratty little umbrella boy who doesn't know his place. Hopefully this spanking will teach you to behave," she said. "Now get back over here. Your ass can take a lot more punishment even if you can't."

                Oswald peered up at her in disbelief as he shook his head in a state of shock, "I... I can't... Please!" He whimpered doing his best to inch away from her with his hands still protectively covering his very sore and welted bottom.

                "Your punishment isn't over, Oswald," snarled Fish. "I decide when it stops. Not you."

                Oswald's lip trembled, "I know..." He knew to argue with her would only end up making him suffer more than she already had planned for him, so reluctantly he picked himself up off the floor and willed his feet to shuffle back to her side. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly his body shaking with his sobs as he found himself timidly laying once more across her lap. His body screamed its trepidation in uncontrollable spasms of nervous shaking now so afraid was he of what was to follow after she'd gotten him settled and ready for the next wave of her sadistic pleasure.

                Fish rested her arm for a moment. She listened to Oswald's desperate tortured weeping for a time. The noise reverberated bizarrely against the walls of the quiet, mostly empty room.

                Fish felt Oswald's tense body relax a bit in her lap, perhaps the man was daring to hope that she would show him mercy. Of course, she had no such plans. This was only a short reprieve from the punishment, one that would cause his butt to hurt much worse when she began spanking him again. He would forget the sting of her leather belt, and then remember again in all of its cutting voracious relentlessness as though it were the first time. She'd let him have some hope of relief and then swiftly crush that hope like a bug under the heel of her shoe.

                Fish patted Oswald's bare red butt with the palm of her hand. It was soft and very warm. She petted it, like a cat, as though to comfort him, knowing that this gesture of intimacy would only humiliate him further.

                "It’s a shame you're so naughty, Oswald," whispered Fish maliciously, as she continued to gently stroke his heated backside. "I really did like having you as my umbrella boy."

                Fish rested her hand lovingly on Oswald's rump and sighed, "....My treacherous little penguin," she Finished patting him again, and his body tensed as though she were about to strike him. When it became clear that she wasn’t, she felt his body relax again.

                Suddenly, Fish's expression became nasty, and she lifted the belt spanking Oswald hard across the chops with it, "Squawk for me, Oswald! Squawk like a penguin!" she shouted with sadistic glee.

                Oswald had been lulled into a semi-state of security for the time that Fish had decided to be gentle with him. Her touch made his skin prickle with goose bumps all the while still quivering in anticipation for the point where Fish decided to hurt him again. He was no fool, Oswald knew that at any moment Fish would begin exacting her revenge once more, but he was complacent to lay unmoving under her ministrations in hopes that she would instead tire of this game and let him go. That was the only thing he clung to now; his hatred of Fish and how all he had to do was endure this torture until the time she grew bored of him. He would have his revenge on her in the future, and he would make her pay dearly for this!

                His hate however prominent had been culled by the pain and humiliation, but that name… that name! Maroni had made him embrace it, but hearing it uttered out of her mouth made the bile rise in his throat. Still as it grated against his last nerves to hear her speak of him as her underling, when she instructed him to squawk, in his mind’s eye, he saw himself spinning his head around to glare at her his face twisted with rage as his hands wrapped around her throat and choked the life out of her as he spat, “I’d sooner DIE!” But in reality as the belt spread new horrible pain on top of the dull ache that still registered on his very sore posterior, these feelings of terrible wrath were quelled just as quickly as they had blossomed. Instead, Oswald’s voice broke with his anguished scream as he began to sob anew feeling quite broken by her physical and mental torture.

                Fish raised her belt and brought it down hard on Oswald's behind, "I won't stop--" she stated, grinning sadistically.

                SMACK!

                "Until you--"

                SMACK!

                "Squawk!"

                SMACK!

                A deep crimson stain spread across Oswald's butt cheeks as Fish beat him with the belt. In places, his butt cheeks were becoming black and blue.

                Caving to her incessant demands Oswald struggled out a pathetic cawing sound before breaking down into further unabated wails. He no longer cared about his reputation, all he did care about was getting the unyielding torment to cease.

                Hearing a humiliated Oswald yelp that warbling bird noise, Fish smirked. She laughed at him, "You call that a squawk?"

                She smacked his bruised behind with the belt again, "I want you to squawk!"

                Oswald went somewhere else now mentally compartmentalizing to keep from losing the last vestiges of self he had left. He made the noises she coaxed out of him readily now; anything to stop the continued pain he felt; anything to please her and hopefully get her to let up on his now very raw skin. Even though it hurt worse than anything he could contemplate, he didn’t opt to try and remove himself from her lap any longer but still twisted and kicked his feet reflexively with each stroke the belt landed on tender flesh.

                Fish cackled evilly and then put down her belt, "That's enough getting your ass whooped for now, Penguin. Your punishment is far from over of course, but I think that this is a fine opportunity for you to learn some RESPECT. Now, repeat after me: 'Thank you for teaching me respect by giving me a spanking, Miss Mooney. I deserved it’.”

                Oswald was so thankful that she’d finally stopped he gratefully sputtered out loudly sucking in breaths in an attempt to stop his uncontrollable crying, “Tha-thank you Miss Money for spanking me! I…I deserved to be taught to re-respect you!” His prone body now collapsed in exhaustion on her lap as Oswald continued to bawl now into his hands trying to hide his face away from the shame he felt currently.

                Butch who had watched the whole scene seemed somewhat paled by the level of broken Oswald currently was. He had assumed Fish would break him but was impressed with how quickly under the circumstances of the arrangement she was able to get the smaller man to become a blubbering mess, “That’s some handiwork there boss.” He glanced at his watch, “And to think you’ve only been at it thirty minutes.”

                The reference to time seemed to drive further dismay from Oswald surely realizing there were many more hours of torture to come.

                "You may pull your pants back up, Oswald," said Fish. "I'm done with you for the night."

                Fish turned to Butch and her other minions, "Hand cuff him, and put some ankle shackles on him, then lock him in one of the closets. He can sleep on the floor without a pillow or a blanket tonight. Also, don't give him dinner. He doesn't eat tonight," she instructed.

                Oswald slid wordlessly to his knees at her side gingerly reaching back to touch the scorched and swollen flesh. His fingers gently grazed his backside quite careful of its sensitivity as he shakily stood and moved his slacks back in place. His breath still hitched as he stumbled backwards away from Fish the tears still flowing down his blushing cheeks. Oswald wiped at his face furiously with the back of his arm as if he could wipe away the obvious evidence that he’d been crying… was still crying.

                One of Fish’s men had gone to the basement grabbing the items she had requested and passed them to Butch who gave a whistle and snapped his fingers to get Oswald’s attention, “Hey; turn around,” butch stated flatly.

                Shuffling stiffly, Oswald turned to face the man eyes lowered to the ground as he held out rattling hands for him to cuff.

                Butch studied him a moment before cuffing his hands and then his feet well aware that the man would likely comply willingly now, but being in his line of work was prepared for an attack if Oswald happened to snap at that moment. Oswald didn’t; he merely quivered in place pitifully as he was further restrained. The shackles were the type used in prison systems that kept the hands close together but gave enough movement that the prisoner could safely trundle along without hopes of being able to run off while they were escorted to and fro. Having his mobility dampened didn’t even seem to register to Oswald now though as he just felt emotionally and physically drained from this encounter and longed for the quiet of the promised closet.

                Snatching either arm, two of Fish’s men moved in quickly and bodily picked Penguin up so that his feet were no longer touching the ground as they moved Oswald’s rigid form swiftly down the hall to the walk-in closet used to store boxes and crates of various restaurant goods. Throwing him unceremoniously to the floor, they slammed and locked the door behind him leaving Oswald to clamor around in the dark.

                For his part, Oswald was just glad to be away from prying eyes as he crawled to the recesses of the room curling in to a fetal position as he continued to cry in broken sobs.

                The next morning, Fish arrived at the club, accompanied by Butch, her current umbrella boy, Timothy, and two other henchmen. She carried a black leather riding crop in her purse. The kind that they sell in sex shops. She also carried a black leather collar (the outside of which was adorned with silver studs) and a matching black leather leash.

                Fish and her henchmen entered the building locking the door behind them. She left the closed sign in the window as it had been for some time now.

                Clearing her throat to get the attention of her attendant goons, Fish stated, "Release Oswald from the closet, leave his restraints on, but escort him to the restroom and allow him to spend some time there. I can't have my little penguin soiling himself. This club has a sanitation code to conform to. After that's finished with, you leave his restraints on and bring him back here to me. The poor thing's probably hungry," said Fish.

                Oswald had not slept merely drifting in and out of semi-consciousness throughout the night his fear of what was to come hanging over him like a dreadful nightmare keeping him from any form of rest. Not that he could have really rested on the cold hard floor of the closet.

                He ached all over, especially on his rear where the sting had been replaced with acute soreness that still chafed to put pressure on. Oswald was sure it would take weeks to fully heal from, and the thought of shuffling around having trouble sitting for at least a week left him to sulk and drown himself in self-pity.

                When the door opened, the outside light blinded him as he squinted holding up his hands as far as the chains would allow to cover his face from the harsh contrast. Wordlessly the goons came forward dragging him from the ground where he crouched. He let out a squeak of barely contained terror as his mind whirled what awfulness he was bound to experience next.

                Oswald was relieved to be given the option to use the restroom as he already felt filthy enough from the sweat he’d perspired the night before due to his exertions and fear and from having laid on the ground all night. Fish’s henchman didn’t give him any privacy, and once finished, he was marched back out to where Fish stood waiting for his arrival. He visibly shook just to gaze upon her now which he didn’t do for long as his eyes were drawn quickly to the floor. Oswald made an attempt at politeness, warbling out a, “Good morning Miss Mooney. You are looking quite lovely,” but how pathetic it sounded made him grimace as he trembled nervously feeling already on the verge of tears again knowing he was about to enter round two of whatever awfulness she had in store for him.

                "Good morning, Oswald," Fish replied politely. There was a strange disconnect between her expression and the tone of her voice. She was leering at Oswald the way that a cat leers at a mouse she intends to eat, while at the same time, sitting at one of the tables near the bar, eating a stack of pancakes. She sipped ice tea from a clear glass through a straw. Then, beckoned Oswald and her goons forward, with a silent hand gesture.

 

                "Please, sit down with me. Eat," she instructed, knowing that the pain in Oswald's ass would be exacerbated by him sitting down in the hard wooden chair; knowing that Oswald would not be able to feed himself with his arms bound like that.

                Not wanting to sit with the way his bottom ached, he held up his hands in concession stuttering, "Na-no thanks.... I'm not that hungry. I can just stand over here until you're finished Miss Mooney." Oswald was hungry, but his stomach was doing flip flops, so the thought of eating wasn't overly attractive to him at the moment.

                Fish's eyes locked onto Oswald's, "It’s very rude to refuse my breakfast invitation, Oswald. I should think you would know that," she said this while twirling the straw around in her iced tea absentmindedly. She chuckled to herself, "And here I used to think you were such a gentleman."

                Worried that he may offend her, Oswald apologized, "I didn't mean to appear rude! I'll join you of course..." He shuffled over to her table and slowly eased into the seat next to her. He looked positively miserable, but he kept a weak smile on his lips in an effort to make Fish happy.

                Fish watched Oswald with that same predatory expression as she finished her breakfast. It was positively bizarre how rarely she broke eye contact. Perhaps she planned to let him starve while being held prisoner by her and this was her way of taunting him about it. Perhaps she was afraid that he would attempt an escape the second she took her eyes off of him.

                When the pancakes were gone from Fish's plate, she placed her silverware back on the table and stood up, "Are you hungry, Oswald?" she asked.

                By this point having been sitting quietly in Fish’s presence while she ate the entirety of her own meal, the aromas had awoken his own yearning to eat, and Oswald nodded vigorously, “Yes ma’am; I am.”

                Fish walked over to Oswald and crouched down so that her face was close to his. Her mouth twisted into a sinister smirk, "Then earn your breakfast."

                Oswald’s eyes had widened at her approach and he reflexively flinched away from her watching her warily afraid of her future intentions. He questioned timidly, “Wha-what do I need to do?”

                "You're being punished, remember?" said Fish as though it might be possible for Oswald to forget this. "There are chores to be done around here. Cleaning. You know. Things that I normally have to pay someone to do. Dust the place, mop the floors and clean the bathrooms. Then you can eat."

                Oswald looked plaintively at the table saying nothing but giving a small nod of acknowledgement. Chores he could do. It was better than enduring the previous night by a long stretch. It did grate on his nerves that she would reduce him to a maid, but he would never dare let on his feelings on the matter.

                "I will un-cuff you for this," said Fish. "If you are uncooperative or try to escape. You will be punished for it. Do you understand?"

                Oswald's eyes rose from the table slowly to meet hers as he nodded an affirmative, "I understand ma'am, and yo-you've got nothing to fear from me." He stood moving away from the table, he ached badly and welcomed any possible freedom she was willing to afford him.

                Fish retrieved a key from one of the inner pockets of her leather jacket. Then, she unlocked Oswald's hands before she knelt down and unlocked his ankle cuffs, returning them to her purse.

                Fish stood up again and put her hands on her hips, leering at the newly freed Oswald, "Cleaning supplies are in the janitor's closet," she said. "You have five minutes to prove yourself useful to me. Fail and I'll be forced to make you cry again."

                Fish walked behind Oswald and smacked him as hard as she could on the ass, "Go!" she barked.

                Oswald practically stood on tip toe when her hand connected stifling a yelp at the pain that still radiated off his tender flesh. He did jump in to action quite fearful of the consequences of not pleasing Fish as he limped over to the janitorial closet nervously digging out the supply cart. His lips formed into a classic pout as he moved about doing his best to anticipate her wants concerning cleaning. Oswald's mother tended to take care of most of the menial labor in his life. This isn't to say he didn't know how to clean, he just wasn't overly adept at it.

                Fish grinned as she watched Oswald stumble around in a panic, grabbing cleaning supplies, dusting things, mopping the floors. He moved as quickly as his disability would allow, occasionally almost tripping over his own feet. This behavior amused Fish greatly, especially since there was nothing he could do in the next five minutes short of slitting his own wrists that would persuade her to spare him the punishment that she had in mind. Five minutes was simply was not enough time to do any of the tasks that Fish had assigned adequately. This was a decent sized club.

                Fish's grin broadened. She couldn't wait to tell Oswald that his efforts were in vain; that his cleaning was simply so insufficient that he must be disciplined for it. She would wait awhile, however enjoying watching him sweat. The longer she let him believe that he might be spared, the more fun it would be when she finally told him that he wasn't.

                For his part, Oswald diligently scrubbed and wiped trying his best not to miss any spots to gain the scrutiny of Fish.

                After some time, Fish became bored of watching Oswald clean, "Time's up," she snapped, "Oswald, get over here."

                "This sucks, Oswald," said Fish in a tone of mock aggravation. She swiped her index finger on the counter of the bar and pulled up dust. She shoved the dusty finger in Oswald's face and said: "Do you see this? I should make you eat this."

                She backhanded Oswald across the face, "Lose the suit," she ordered.

                Oswald's hands flailed, his pent up nervousness needed an outlet as Fish's examination proved his efforts to be wanting. He saw momentary stars flash behind his eyes as the stinging slap whipped his face to the side. He staggered backward eyes wide in both fear and confusion, "Suit? You... you want me in a state of undress?" His cheeks quivered at the thought of being bared around her even if she hadn't said she planned on spanking him, the memory was so vividly fresh, his body instinctively remembered.

                "Yes. Did I stutter? You lost your privilege to wear clothes, Penguin. A penguin in a tuxedo is just ridiculous anyway," taunted Fish. "Penguins should be... _nude_...as nature intended. It’s really more dignified that way."

                "Lost privileges to wear clothes?" Oswald stated this absently more to himself than to Fish as the idea made him feel much too vulnerable. He looked about very aware that they were standing in the middle of the club as he fiddled with his lapels nervously, "You... you want that I should undress here... now?"

                "I'm getting impatient, Oswald," said Fish.

                Oswald wanted to plead a case about heath code issues and such, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference, and would only anger the woman, so he began the arduous task of disrobing. He took his suit off hanging it neatly off the barstool hesitating to take off his underwear but knowing better than to leave them on finally took pains to get completely nude. He stood now in front of her with both hands covering himself as he glared at the floor a deep frown painting his face.

                "That's more like it," said Fish, smirking as she walked over to Oswald, her hands shuffling around in her purse, "Now get down on your hands and knees and really clean that floor. I want to see my face in it," she said.

                He looked in the direction of the cart and back to Fish as he replied meekly, "Wha-what did you want me to clean it with.... you don't have a floor scrubber? There's only a mop..." Oswald saw small sponges, but that would take forever and they would likely not do that good of a job he thought. He did drop to his knees as he said this not wishing to be seen as disobeying her.

                Fish hadn't considered this technicality. She had merely assumed that Oswald would have gotten sponges out of the janitor's closet before this point. She considered allowing him to get up and go retrieve the necessary tools for the task, but then reconsidered. Getting the club clean was not really the point of this, but merely a potential additional perk. The point of this was to not to clean the place; it was to torture Oswald.

                "Use your imagination," Fish replied coldly. She figured it would be most entertaining to let Oswald sweat some more; make him feel stupid for not knowing what he should do to quell her wrath. She withdrew the riding crop from her purse and stood over him with it, waiting for his response.

                Oswald quaked seeing the intimidating implement as he backpedaled towards the cart on hands and knees as quickly as he was capable with his injured leg. He made a point of going directly backward without turning around in fear that his rear would get a nasty surprise if he did.

                "Quickly, Oswald. I'm growing impatient," said Fish tapping the riding crop against the top of the cart menacingly.

                Fumbling in his efforts to comply with Fish's demands, Oswald sent several small sponges and a bottle of Pine-sol skittering across the floor. Oswald immediately scrambled after the items feeling wholly ridiculous crawling on all fours and naked like this. He cringed glancing back at Fish apologetically before dumping out some of contents of the bottle and scrubbing vigorously.

                Fish struck Oswald's raised butt with the riding crop, "Not good enough. Do it better," she ordered.

                He had been expecting her to hit him with that thing the way she waved it about ominously, but it still didn't keep him from squalling out in a high pitched yelp as he scrubbed as fast as he could. The swat although not particularly hard still stung excruciatingly due to the previous night's welts. It was as if she'd never stopped spanking him he could have sworn as he pouted pitying himself for having to endure such hardships.

                Remembering Oswald's betrayal, Fish became angry. An enraged expression twisted her once calm face, making her look frighteningly sadistic. She began smacking Oswald's bright red butt cheeks with the riding crop again and again noting with some satisfaction that his bruises were becoming more severe.

                The new assault, without as far as Oswald could tell, provocation made his body spasm and lurch to remove his derriere from direct line of contact as he collapsed on the ground quickly reaching back to cover both cheeks as he screamed out in pain his head whipping back to stare at her like a wounded animal as he questioned in a panic, “What did I do?! I… I’m trying my best! Please! Help me understand what I’ve done wrong!” Oswald was desperate to please her, and terrified what would happen to him if he didn’t.

                Fish removed the leash and collar from her purse. Then, knelt down and quickly secured the collar around Oswald's neck. Oswald was too busy cradling his sore rump to notice her do thus until it was too late. She stood up and gave the leash a sharp yank, "I didn't say you could stop, Oswald," she said, striking his bruised behind with the crop again.

                Oswald gagged against the restraint bucking awkwardly when the crop had been applied, “Ah! Ow! Ow! Okay! Yes ma’am!” Oswald jerked to quickly return to the previous scrubbing. His face flushed crimson now at this new humiliation. That was how she saw him; like a dog at her feet. What was worse was the fact that at the moment he couldn’t really say he didn’t feel the part, and this thought made his lip quiver as he sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

                Fish walked forward, dragging Oswald along with her on the leash, "You're useless, Oswald," she said. "Just look at this shitty place! Is this really the best you can do? I should make you bend over a chair and beat your ass bloody for this."

                Fish reached down and ruffled Oswald's dark hair lovingly. Her hand slid down the back of his neck and caressed the curve of his back. Her hand slid down lower and lingered for a moment on his heated buttocks. Then, her expression became nasty as her hand slid between his legs to cup his dangling genitals, "But you're just so darn cute," Fish finished darkly. Her hand tightened around his balls and penis.

                Oswald had been about to choke out a reply but only whimpered and shivered uncontrollably as her hand made contact with his skin. His body had learned to fear her touch. His breath quickened as her hand moved down shaking more violently as it reached his ass and he gasped sharply when she grabbed his genitals his fear growing tenfold. His voice croaked out, “I’m so sorry I’ve disappointed you Miss Mooney! I… Please, let me try to make it better. I promise I will! I… I don’t have a lot of experience I know, but give me another chance to make it right.” The thought of being bent over again was enough for him to snap emotionally and the waterworks opened like a bursting dam as he warbled out pitifully, “Please don’t hurt me anymore!”

                Fish's grip on Oswald's genitals tightened, "Stand up," she said.

                Oswald whined, "Okay! Ow! Okay!" He stumbled to his feet stiffly careful not to move too suddenly with the way her hand had such a grip.

                Fish crept up behind Oswald and put her arms around his waist, leaning into him. She inhaled deeply, and then choked, taken aback by Oswald's overpowering body odor, "You stink," she observed bluntly, releasing him from her caress and taking a step backward.

                Oswald pouted feeling even more insecure now, but some small part of him was happy that Fish would be turned off to touch him and hoped it meant she might keep her distance.

                However, he would have no such luck.

                Fish summoned her henchmen and gave them instructions, "Cuff his arms and legs again," she said, digging her hand around in her purse to retrieve the wrist and ankle cuffs that she had put there previously. "Then wrap him in a blanket or something and carry him back to the trunk of my car. After that, you may leave for the day. I will no longer require your services.

                Fish turned to her current umbrella boy. He was young and somewhat attractive with dark curly hair. "Except for you," she said to him. "You come with me."

                Oswald was filled with worry as the thugs moved forward to do as Fish commanded. He didn't fight them though and as fearful as the thought of being shoved in the trunk again was, it was also a small reprieve from the current torture he was experiencing.

                Oswald knew Fish wasn't going to kill him, so how much more hell could she put him through that she couldn't also do at the club without breaking the deal she'd made with Maroni? He suspected that she wanted him to clean some other hovel just to continue berating him until she grew bored with this game. Oswald hoped that would be sooner than later. He never knew how badly he appreciated his freedom until Maroni had let Fish do this to him.

                Fish walked outside and locked the door to the club behind her. She got in her car, watching through the review mirror as her goons dumped Oswald's body (which was wrapped up in a decorative floor rug to avoid suspicion) into the trunk.

                After some time, Fish arrived at her apartment. She parked and got out of the car. Her current umbrella boy followed, "Bring him upstairs," she said to Timothy, "Room 269. Don't look suspicious."

                Being wrapped in the floor rug was not what Oswald had expected, and he found it to be itchy and uncomfortable at first, and by the time he was carried to and from Fish's car to be unrolled unceremoniously onto Fish's living room carpet he had begun to have a small panic attack heaving in long breaths as he panted on the floor looking about to try and gain some ground on where exactly he was.

                Fish owned several estates in the Gotham area renting most of them out to time share recipients, so that she could have one of any number of residents to use at a given time for business mostly and in some unfortunate circumstances to take care of loose ends. Thinking on the latter made Oswald shiver as he repeated like a mantra in his head that this had to be over soon. Fish couldn't keep him indefinitely... could she?

                Fish strolled over to Oswald, swinging the crop absentmindedly as she moved. Her sadistic grin returned as she stared down at a shaken, disoriented Oswald, chuckling to herself as he scrambled to his feet.

                Oswald reflexively took a step back to see her carrying that wretched tool and stammered, "Where... where are we?" As he spoke, he wrapped his arms around himself as if realizing that he was still naked in front of her.

                "Don't you worry about that Pengy," said Fish playfully. "You must be tired. Probably you'd like to rest for a while? Have a nice hot bath?"

                He was instantly on guard, but he was exhausted and a hot bath and rest sounded so very good, so he gave her a small timid nod, "I would appreciate that ma'am."

                Fish walked over to Oswald and put a hand on his shoulder, "Come with me," she said.

                Fish grabbed Oswald's leash, turned and walked from the foyer (where they currently were) down a hallway, towards the bathroom. Timothy, whom she had left without any instructions, looked confused. He glanced around the luxurious apartment nervously and then, because he didn't know what else to do, sat down on one of the brown leather sofas in the living room to await her return.

                Oswald walked compliantly along behind her doing his best to keep up as they rounded the hall to see a luxurious bathroom with a sauna-sized bathtub. He remarked as his eyes took in the view, "This place looks really nice."

                "Yes. I suppose it is, isn't it?" commented Fish offhandedly. Oswald seemed genuinely impressed by her wealth and taste, and this pleased her. However, it was probably better not to let him know that this time he had succeeded in swaying her emotions with his flattery.

                Fish walked over to the bathtub and turned on the faucet. Warm water began to poor out into the tub. Fish glanced over at Oswald, whose wrists and ankles were still bound. He would not be able to wash himself that way. She considered releasing him from his bondage but then quickly reconsidered. Fish was not, as she had been before, surrounded by burly henchmen who could restrain Oswald if he tried to attack her or escape. He would have to remain bound for her own safety. Therefore, if she wanted a clean toy to play with...she would have to wash him off herself.

                Oswald watched the tub fill and as it did, he moved to gaze about the room noting that the atmosphere was rather pleasant considering the circumstances. When Fish turned off the water he held out his wrists tentatively for her to uncuff him.

                Fish thought about this for a moment, "Fine," she said, before retrieving the key from her purse and unlocking Oswald's handcuffs; she decided then that she really had nothing to fear from the likes of Oswald Cobblepot, "But no funny business."

                Oswald shook his head, "No ma'am, I... I wouldn't dream of it!" Oswald wasn't about to try anything stupid after already enduring so much. If he had to admit to himself the reason wasn't solely because he didn't wish to ruin the deal made with Maroni's consent and in turn ruin relations with Maroni himself; he had been shaken to the core by what Fish had done to him already and the thought of betraying her and failing was too horrifying to contemplate.

                "There's some body soap and some shampoo," fish said, pointing at the assortment of soap she had lined up on the edge of the bathtub. "Wash yourself."

                Fish considered leaving the room for this, but then quickly reconsidered. She didn't trust Oswald. She didn't want to give him the chance to plot and scheme in the absence of her supervision.

                Oswald climbed stiffly into the tub lowering himself slowly due to both achiness and the hot water making his sensitive skin scream out in protest. He hissed reflexively but was grateful as he visibly relaxed against the heat and sank into the tub with a slight moan. He proceeded to bathe making sure to take his time knowing this would likely be the high point of his time with Fish, and he planned to make it last!

                Fish watched Oswald bathe, making a point to appear as disinterested as possible despite the way he sighed as the hot water immersed his naked body. There had always been something very pleasing to her about his voice. If he were to sing, she believed he'd probably be a tenor. Beads of sweat dripped down Fish's forehead. She watched as water was splashed over his pale skin. His dark hair became heavy and damp. His body glistened with moisture. She was aroused. There was no denying that. This wasn't surprising really. Fish had always chosen her umbrella boys for their... _endearing attributes_.

                "Hurry up, Oswald. I haven't got all day," Fish snapped coldly. She didn't know how much longer she could pretend not to be aroused. She couldn't let any leftover sentiment for him get in the way of her punishing him as severely as was possible. He would pay dearly for his betrayal.

                Snapping to attention at Fish's obvious irritation Oswald's eyes widened slightly and be began scrubbing more quickly finishing up and pulling the plug on the drain, "Sorry... I tend to be thorough..." It was a lame excuse, but since Fish wasn't privy to his bathing habits, he figured it was a good enough reason for the delay of time. He was sad to leave the warmth and security of the tub as he stood climbing over the side to stand by Fish on the bath mat so as not to drip water all over the floor.

                Fish pulled a clean white towel off of a nearby towel rack on the wall and draped it around Oswald's shoulders. She took a second towel off of the towel rack and began tussling his hair dry. There was something about the way he stood there and let her do that, which triggered a bizarre and extremely involuntary surge of affection for him. She let go of the towel she had been using to dry his hair and it fell to the bathroom floor.

                "Towel off and then you can put on one of my robes if you're cold," Fish said. In the face of this bizarre involuntary affection for him, she was endanger of losing her resolve. "Then I'll fix you something to eat."

                Oswald had remained quite still while Fish had begun drying him off his eyes downcast in submission to her for fear of upsetting her. The dichotomy of cruelty to this new sense of mothering had his sensibilities askew and he watched her curiously now murmuring a soft, “Thank you Miss Mooney; I would like that very much.” He pulled the towel tightly to himself liking the feeling of having something covering him.

                Fish left the bath and walked down the hallway into the living room, where Timothy was sitting on one of the leather sofas, submissively awaiting her return.

                "You watch Oswald when he comes out here," she said to him. "Make sure he doesn't try to pick up any weapons and hide them on him...of steal something. He's a nasty little thief. Probably his pockets would be full of my things already...if he had any pockets to put them in. See something suspicious. You report to me, understand."

                Timothy nodded to indicate that he understood the instruction.

                Watching her go, Oswald breathed a sigh of relief looking about the room for the robe Fish had spoken of. He felt he was somehow getting on her good side again which hopefully meant she would be releasing him soon. He wandered down the hall towards the living room area to see Fish's new umbrella boy coming to check on him. Oswald looked his nose down at him, "I gather she must have been in a hurry to replace me," he pushed past the man moving towards the kitchen. He may have needed to bow and scrape to Fish, but he would be damned if he would give any deference to this nobody.

                Timothy slapped an expensive vase off of the mantle place and it fell to the ground, shattering into a thousand unfixable pieces.

                "Miss Mooney, Oswald's broken your vase!" Timothy reported dutifully.

                In the kitchen, the sound of bacon sizzling was interrupted by Fish furiously bellowing a string of swear words.

                Oswald spun around as the crash resounded in the hallway utter mortification plastered on his face seeing the broken vase and seeing the now smug look on the other man's face as the man called out to Fish stating that Oswald had broken the vase. Oswald screamed out in obvious panic, "No! It... it wasn't me! I swear! He just knocked it off its stand and told you I did it!"

                Fish stormed into the living room, her eyebrows taunt with rage. She had the riding crop with her and she gripped its handle in both shaking fists, squeezing it with such force that it might have been the throat of someone who she wished to strangle. She felt shards of glass crunch into smaller pieces as she entered the room. Then, she looked down. Her priceless vase had clearly been smashed into a thousand pieces of worthless glass. She looked back up. Her eyes locked onto Oswald's.

                "I should have known better than to leave you alone, unsupervised," she growled. "You devious little shit! Do you know what that cost! It should be in a fucking museum!"

                Fish lifted the tail of Oswald's robe and began spanking his red ass with the crop.

                "Bend over!" she ordered as she continued to pepper his bruised backside with harsh smacks. "You're going to get such a spanking that you'll _never_ sit right again!"

                Oswald yelped running around in a circle in an attempt to avoid the painful swats and delay having to suffer the foreboding threat Fish had just levied. The whole scene looked quite comical to Timothy, but it was anything but to Oswald as he desperately tried to get Fish to listen to him, “Wait! Please listen to me! It wasn’t me! It was him! He’s framing me!”

                "Lies!" Fish spat viciously. She brandished the crop threateningly in Oswald's direction. "Get back over here so that I can spank your treacherous ass bloody!"

                Fish brought the crop down on the arm of the leather sofa. It made a threatening noise which echoed through the room. "You'll be one sorry little penguin when I'm through with you!" she threatened.

                Thoroughly terrified by her implications Oswald whined, “I’m not lying! Please! See reason! Why would I do something like that when I know you’d hurt me so brutally?” Oswald moved towards Fish afraid to disobey her now, but he held his hands splayed out defensively in front of him as he inched closer to where she wanted him hoping his words would reach her before his body did. The five or so good swats he’d already had the displeasure of feeling on his very sore and welted flesh and the thought of her really going to town on him now had him on the verge of tears trembling as his body was awash with a numb feeling of anticipated dread.

                "Enough, of your miserable squawking!" Fish hissed. "I know you, Oswald. I know you did it on purpose. You're defiant. You've always been defiant. You have NO RESPECT. I've let you distract me from your punishment for long enough....and now you want to go blaming your treachery on poor Timothy? You disgust me....you greasy, worthless, backstabbing punk."

                Things were going so well just moments ago. How did they go downhill so quickly? Oswald had to wonder as he scrambled to think up something more to say in his defense even though deep down he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Fish was furious, and she planned to take that fury out on his soon to be even more sore back side. He sniffled now as he pleaded, “I know I betrayed you before, and I’m truly so sorry for that! Believe me! You’ve made me sorrier than I’ve ever been! You may believe me to be defiant, but ask yourself, have you ever known me to be so bold without having something to gain?”

                "I'm growing impatient, Oswald," Fish growled. "The longer you stall, the angrier I become and the angrier I become, the worse your punishment will be. Prepare yourself for a spanking right now or you won't get breakfast....lunch? Brunch?...Yea. You'll be hungry AND have a hurt tushy. Which is what you deserve anyway. Why should I waste my energy trying to make you more comfortable by feeding you when you clearly don't deserve it?"

                The last place he wanted to be was bent over the arm of that leather sofa, yet somehow he felt compelled to do as Fish had instructed. The loss of will to defy her made him cry in self-pity as he eased shakily in to place although his feet shot up reflexively a moment before lowering as the fear of what she was about to do to him kept running a loop in his rattled mind. He definitely didn’t think he deserved this, but that point was moot.

                With one swift action she had flipped up his robe to show his naked ass trembling in anticipation, "What's the matter? Crying already, Oswald?" Fish taunted him coldly. She raised the crop up high and brought it down hard on his upturned bottom with a sharp SMACK. She raised the crop again and smacked his bruised butt as hard as she could with it, "You poor thing," she mocked sarcastically.

 

                She began whacking Oswald's behind again and again in sharp rapid succession. Standing while he was bent over in front of her allowed her to hit him with more force than was possible when he had been bent over her lap. Now, she was able to swing the crop higher and bring it back down with a greater momentum. She smirked, listening to Oswald's pain-filled sniffling as his body jerked in time to the registered sting of her cruel implement against his tortured backside. The black and blue marks already present deepened and spread as he was struck.

                "Don't you know that the only one who feels sorry for you...is you?" she said, her smirk broadening. Listening to Oswald's pitiful sniffling filled her with perverse pleasure, and she vowed to make him bawl like an infant before this punishment was through. "You brought this on yourself, Pengy!"

                It didn't take Oswald long before the continued sting had him twisting and bucking to stay in place raising his legs to block out of need to escape the pain he was feeling as he blubbered something about unfairness, but his coherency was lost in his cries and muffled by the leather sofa as he wept openly now. His resolve for this type of punishment long gone.

                Fish whacked Oswald on his red behind with the crop. Her eyes glanced up at the clock on the wall above the couch. It was getting later in the afternoon. She gave him another hard spank, which caused his butt cheeks to clench and his back to arch involuntarily. Then she paused the beating and said, "If you want this spanking to stop, you have to beg, Oswald. Beg. Grovel. Grovel to be forgiven."

                Then she resumed beating his bare butt with vicious relentless voracity. This was only a fraction of the punishment he deserved. He was getting off so easy. If Maroni wasn't protecting this punk....oh the things she would have done to him...the unspeakable tortures. But then again, even that wouldn't have been severe enough a punishment. The only suitable punishment was death. Oh well. Business was business. This would have to do. Fish derived a sadistic pleasure from Oswald's childish, wimpy sobbing as she gave his humiliatingly elevated rump a sound thrashing. His whole butt was very bruised now and she found that she no longer had to hit him very hard to elicit a pained yelp.

                Oswald was quick to begin groveling as it was an entirely too default response with Fish, "Oh God please stop! Please forgive me!" Oswald's voice cracked from the prolonged screaming out as he continued a mantra of apologies. He hurt so badly, he knew that sitting was going to feel like an impossible task for quite a few days as Fish made good on her threat.

                "Not pathetic enough. Beg harder," Fish commanded as she continued to beat him. The underside of Oswald's bottom where his butt cheeks met his thighs had suffered the most severe bruising and here the skin was beginning to break.

                Oswald screamed himself hoarse as Fish peppered his bottom unmercifully. Several times throughout her tirade of blows he had had to reach back and grasp a hold of his cheeks to calm the fire that radiated there. He pulled them away shortly after, so as not to make her feel the need to restrain him although each time he reached back it became more difficult to remove his hands knowing what would follow. He was all out sobbing now as he begged, "No more! No more! Please, please! Mercy! Have mercy!" His words were broken as they hitched out of his dry throat his body practically convulsing with the pain.

                Fish lowered her Crop, "That's enough for now," she said, lowering the tail of Oswald's bathrobe so that it covered his brutalized behind.

                Fish returned to the kitchen, shouting: "You must be hungry, Oswald! Why don't you have something to eat?"

                As soon as she was out of the room, Timothy smirked evilly and gave Oswald the finger.

                Oswald still blubbered in both pain and humiliation. The fabric seemed heavy and scratchy on his battered bottom, but he was ever so grateful to have the punishment end. His breath hitched as if he were hyperventilating desperate to stop his uncontrollable wails. His face was a picture of misery as he slid off the arm of the couch and wiped at the tears still cascading down his cheeks.

                He watched as Fish stormed off down back towards the kitchen to then catch the other man's expression and gesture. Scowling hard but still sucking in air had Oswald looking like a petulant toddler, but it was all he could do not to lunge forward and throttle the smirk off the other man's face. Having learned his lesson though, he said nothing only pushing himself off the floor and hurrying to the kitchen before the other man could manage to get him beaten again.

                The bacon of course was all but a piece of charcoal by the time they had returned, and Oswald pouted seeing that the kitchen chairs were of course hard wood with no cushions.

                Fish watched Oswald crunch the brunt bacon slowly. He sat on the backs of his this thighs with his ass slightly elevated. Tears were still streaming down his face. Fish walked over to him and pushed down on his shoulders, forcing his ass into the chair. Oswald squeaked pitifully. His sobbing grew more frantic.

                "You see," said Fish, sitting down across from him. "I told you, you'd be one sorry Penguin."

                She watched him as he finished off the contents of his plate. The poor thing must have been starving, she thought, if the way he scarfed that disgusting stuff down was any indication, "Don't get too comfortable, though," said Fish, grinning. "Your punishment isn't over yet, Penguin. You're still mine for at least the rest of the day."

                Oswald looked panicked as he stated in an octave higher than normal, "More punishment?!" The thought of having to endure more after the recent beating was an overwhelming consideration, "Please don't hit me anymore," he mewled beginning to silently cry again at the prospect.

Fish grinned evilly, "Wouldn't dream of it," she said.

                Timothy walked into the room and whispered something into Fish's ear. Fish nodded, her grin broadening, "Oh, Timothy, you're so devious!" she snickered. She picked the empty plate in front of Oswald off of the table and walked it over to the dishwasher. "I suppose I must have a type."

                "...Well?" Timothy asked.

                "Do it," replied Fish amorously. "It's just what Oswald deserves."

Fish's current umbrella boy turned to Oswald, "Come with me," he said.

                Seeing Timothy approach Fish and whisper conspiratorially brought on an immediate sense of dread that made Oswald's stomach flip flop. What could she mean by type? The bastard had obvious evil intent he knew, the question was, what did that entail?

                Oswald didn't know, but if Fish thought he 'deserved' it, it most certainly couldn't be good. Oswald rose stiffly from the table following the other man slowly as he wrapped his arms around himself his fear growing with every step.

                Fish walked over to Oswald. Her eyes locked onto his downcast, blood shot ones, "You'll be given instructions, Oswald," said Fish. "Cooperate or you'll be sleeping hogtied tonight."

                Sniffling Oswald merely nodded his acceptance knowing that not cooperating wasn't a viable option without the consequence of severe pain.

                Oswald followed Timothy down a hallway to Fish's bedroom. The room was spacious and tastefully decorated, with a brown carpet and cream-colored walls. At the center of it was a king sized canopy bed with pulled back gossamer curtains.

                Timothy crouched down and reached under the bed, retrieving a length of rope. Fish was something of an S&M enthusiast, as Timothy was well aware. She kept bondage paraphilia all around the apartment, and used any excuse to bring it out. He knew from experience where she kept her stuff.

                Timothy secured the end of the rope to one of the bed posts and then crouched down and reached under the bed again to retrieve more rope. He secured one piece of rope to each bed post and then placed a short stack of pillows at the center of the bed, "Lay down on your belly with you pelvis over the stack of pillows," Timothy instructed.

                Oswald, by this point terrified of what Fish might do to him if he disobeyed orders, reluctantly obeyed. Trembling noticeably, he laid face-down on the bed, resting his pelvis on the stack of pillows. The pillows forced his butt into an elevated position. Timothy bound his wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed with ropes.

                Fish sashayed into the room and sat down in a chair by the side of the bed, "Excellent," she said, smirking. "Now we can begin."

                Timothy unzipped the front of his pants, "Fuck. I can't wait to tear up that ass," he said, leering at the bound Oswald hungrily.

                Fish waggled her finger at Timothy disapprovingly, "Not yet, Timothy," she said, "Loosen him up first. Make some room for your big cock."

                Oswald knew what was going to happen to him climbing into this position, and although his mind screamed no, his body had obeyed the command. He did his best to take himself out of this scenario, but the anticipation of what was to follow wouldn't allow him such luxuries. Instead he lay tensely rigid new tears of shame cascading down his face as he wished for this to be over quickly. He was effectively a virgin in this regard, but he held no hope the other man would be gentle either way, so he said nothing but a small nervous whimper.

                Fish watched as Timothy lifted the tail of Oswald's bathrobe, exposing his bruised butt. She was aroused. There was no denying that, and she made no effort to hide it. Forcing these two men to fuck in front of her was the ultimate power trip, and she was practically salivating over the thought of Oswald's impending sexual torture. She would join in herself, she decided. When the time was right.

                Timothy licked his index finger and inserted it between Oswald's red butt cheeks. He pushed the tip of his finger against Oswald's hole and then slowly forced it inside. It made a faint squelching noise as it entered.

                Oswald shook in trepidation as the other man moved up behind him. He could feel the heat of close contact as Timothy flipped his robe away to expose him. He braced himself, but the invasion still surprised him as Oswald let out a sharp gasp and his eyes bulged at the sensation.

                Timothy pushed his finger deeper. Oswald winced. Fish's sadistic smile broadened, "More," she said. "He needs more."

                Timothy forced his middle finger into Oswald and began pumping furiously, pulling his fingers apart to stretch the opening.

                The second finger had Oswald’s back arch. It burned, and one finger felt like it filled him impossibly, two elicited a vocal protest, “Ah!” He involuntarily clenched his muscles around the assaulting fingers to which he immediately regretted pulling away to the best of his ability to try and remove the fingers. This only served to remove them partially before Timothy just pushed them back in as deep as they had been previously.

                A third finger was inserted, the ring finger. Timothy pumped all three fingers rapidly, they made as Oswald's anal cavity was repeatedly molested, "I want to fuck him now," Timothy told Fish, without ceasing his aggressive thrusts.

                "No yet," said Fish. "Let's have some fun with him first."

                Timothy removed his fingers from Oswald's cavity, and then whacked Oswald across the chops.

                "Go wash your hands," Fish told him.

                Timothy nodded obediently and then exited the room to go and do what he had been told. When he was gone, Fish walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. She stared a sobbing Oswald in his tear-streaked face, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He seemed to hate this, perhaps even more than the threat of being brutally raped and tortured.

                All Oswald could do was lament pitifully letting out an almost girlish squeal at the ferocity the other man jackknifed in and out of him. He was humiliated beyond belief. The pain of the previous spankings paled in comparison to the degradation he felt currently. It may have hurt physically less, but the loss of pride was overwhelming. The pain of the swat brought him out of his inner stupor to scream out suddenly tensing a moment before collapsing again. As Fish ran her hand through his hair, his face read the picture of defeat as his body shook now with wracking sobs not from pain but from apprehension of what was too come and self-loathing to let his worst enemy see him so broken.

                Fish walked over to a cabinet, opened one of the drawers, and retrieved a long sex toy made out of blue plastic. She walked back over to Oswald, pushed the sex toy up his vulnerable butt, and flipped the switch on the handle, causing it to vibrate.

"Ah, ah, ow, ow..." Oswald whined meekly as Fish inserted the vibrator and took a deep intake of air as the vibrations coursed through him sending a shutter down his spine. The sensation pressed against his prostate had a reaction of its own as his body betrayed him and his member began to harden much too his embarrassment. He didn't know the action would cause stimulation to a pressure point he had no control over, and all he could think was that on some perverse level that he didn't even understand he must have liked such abuse. This of course caused him to let loose with another torrent of sobs in his confusion.

                Fish wiggled the handle of the sex toy, pressing it further into Oswald's butt, "You like that. Don't you?" said Fish, putting a hand under his pelvis to grip his growing erection.

                "No!" He warbled hating that her touch only served to bring him further to attention.

                "Shh..." Fish Crooned. Her hand wrapped around his penis as she began pumping it furiously. She withdrew the sex toy slowly and then plunged it back into his butt with violent force. "You're just a little man hoar, aren't you? You like it when I stick things up your butt, don't you? Well, good news, baby, you're going to get lots of things up your butt tonight. You've earned it."

                Fish withdrew the sex toy again and then forced it back into his bottom, "Clench," she instructed, swatting Oswald's right butt cheek with the palm of her hand. The violent smack, forced him to clench his butt cheeks reflexively around the vibrating device.

Oswald's face burned with shame as his back arched with every thrust accompanied by a gasp or groan. No matter how he tried to not react, his body betrayed him whether by attempting not to jerk about against her insistent thrusting or to remain stoically quiet while it was happening, but worse was the horrifying fact that he was now rock hard in her hand. He tried to focus on her hand since it was the one thing he was experiencing that he did like.

                "When I tell you to clench, I want you to clench, or you're going to get hit," Fish told Oswald. She pulled the sex toy out of him and then quickly shoved it back in. The thing made a wet noise as it disappeared again between his butt cheeks, "Clench your butt tight, Oswald," Fish instructed, when the sex toy was in as far up as it would go. The noise produced by the vibrator in the sex toy was muffled by his insides. Its vibrations caused the fat on his cheeks to vibrate so violently that his whole ass might have been a plastic sex toy. "Really clamp down, there. Take it up as far as you can. Right up your behind. That's right."

                Oswald couldn't help but to clench every time the apparatus was pushed in to the hilt. It was a small toy, but it felt impossibly big to his virgin hole. He wholly dreaded when Timothy would come back and prayed that his cock wasn't too big as just this hurt and burned.

                The spot Fish kept hitting with her toy along with her timed strokes created an irresistible rhythm that Oswald could no longer deny, and he came letting out a strangulated cry as his body released. Fish had effectively milked his prostate, and the act of doing so had his ass squeezing in spasms around the vibrator. Once the pressure had been released, all that was left was the pain, and Oswald let out a string of, "Ows" tensing uncomfortably, "Please I can't take it anymore!"

                Timothy returned to the room and sat down in a chair near the side of the bed, awaiting Fish's instructions. Fish left the vibrator on and pushed it all of the way up Oswald's butt. She stood back and watched him for a while, enjoying the sight of him, bound and helpless, with the handle of the vibrator sticking out of his bright, red, vibrating rump. Tears of shame and anguish streamed down his cringing, bloodshot face.

                After some time, Fish crept up behind Oswald and removed the vibrator, "How's your butt feel, Oswald?" Fish inquired of him conversationally.

                Oswald was relieved to have the implement removed feeling rather sore from the ordeal even though the vibrator was only as thick as a large cigar. He answered timidly his voice laced as a whine, "It hurts."

                Fish smirked, liking the pathetic whimper in Oswald's voice as he informed her of his pain, "Aww..., poor baby," she mocked. "Timothy you can plow his ass now."

                Oswald swung his head over his shoulder with a look of anxiety clearly apparent on his face at the thought of taking another man's cock in his ass. He couldn't see Timothy from the angle he was in, but he hoped against all hope that Timothy wasn't much bigger than the previous apparatus Fish had just been working in and out of him.

                Timothy unzipped his pants and pulled them down around his ankles. His cock was massive and erect. He fondled it briefly and then climbed on top of Oswald, straddling the other man's ass, gripping his shoulders roughly. The head of his erect penis brushed against Oswald's crack.

                Fish walked over to the bed and pulled Oswald's butt cheeks apart guiding the tip of Timothy's penis toward Oswald's rectum. Once the tip of Timothy's cock was lined up with Oswald's hole, Fish stepped back. Timothy thrust forward forcing his large cock deep into Oswald's butt. It made a wet noise as he thrust violently burying it to the hilt while at the same time smashing his pelvis against Oswald's badly bruised butt cheeks.

                Cringing at the feeling of Timothy's head along with Fish spreading him to be entered, Oswald began to quake with fear of what was to come. His alarm was magnified by the feeling of Timothy entering him, and he immediately began wailing out in pain as he was filled by the other man. His bruised bottom coming in full contact with the other man's pelvic had him gasping and squirming desperately forward to escape both pains as he uttered a string of "Ow's" before pleading, "Oh God, please be gentle! I...I can't... I've never..." he couldn't finish as he began to weep anew feeling unable to say out loud what was happening to him now.

                He couldn't stop himself from trying to remove Timothy’s ramming cock by twisting and jutting forward, but the ropes kept him in place and the pillows kept his ass raised well enough to be unable to resist this fate.

                Timothy pulled out and then rammed back in. Fish watched, amorously as the length of his member disappeared inside of Oswald once again.

                Oswald's cries became more desperate feeling the other man's length drive in to him over and over like a jackhammer. Somehow every thrust managed to bottom out as he felt Timothy's balls slap in to his, and as if that wasn't deep enough, the other man spread his cheeks to slam home that last inch of resistance. He had made the mistake of glancing back, but the sight of seeing the other man disappearing into him at an accelerated rate just seemed to make him feel it that much more acutely, and he had to turn away in shame.

                Timothy rammed his cock into Oswald again feeling himself close to orgasm; he began thrusting his hips rampantly. Timothy moaned, thrust forward, and gasped ejaculating semen into the orifice of his victim.

                Oswald was both sickened and relived to feel the other man empty inside him. He hoped now that Timothy had cum that his ass would see a moment's peace. Oswald didn't think he could have had any tears left in him, but as Fish and her minion continued to degrade him and cause him pain, tears continued to cascade down the sides of his face depicting his misery.

                Timothy withdrew from Oswald and pulled up his pants again.

                Fish laughed, "Now that Oswald's got a tummy full of your cum, I'll have to do the responsible thing and clean him out," she said.

                She glanced up at a clock on the wall, above a cabinet. It was getting later in the evening, "You may go home now, Timothy," Fish said. "I won't be needing you again today.

                Timothy nodded and exited the room. Fish walked up to Oswald and slapped his red ass, "I told you, you'd be sorry you crossed me," she hissed darkly, slapping him again. "You've been very naughty Oswald. Blabbing my secrets to the world. You're a very naughty penguin."

                Fish walked over to the cabinet on the other side of the room and opened a drawer. Here were an assortment of items. A large red hot water bottle attached to a white tube and a glass jar filled with red cream. Fish collected the items in her arms and carried them with her to the bathroom tossing the jar of ointment on the bed next to Oswald. She placed the rest of items on the edge of the bathroom sink and then started the faucet.

                 Picking up the red bag, she filled it with warm water. Once it was almost full, she squeezed a soapy enema solution into the bag, closed the top of the hot water bottle again, and shook it aggressively for several minutes. She walked over to the bathroom closet, removed a silver rolling gurney, and attached one end of the bag from it, so that it hung down. The end of the white tube which the bag was attached to nearly brushed against the floor as she began to roll it. Having prepared Oswald's enema, Fish returned to the bedroom, pulling the gurney behind her.

                Fish pulled the gurney to the foot of the bed. What enema nozzle, she wondered, should she use for this torture session. Certainly one that would make it impossible for him to spill on her nice, clean bed spread. Certainly one that would force him to take all of the enema exactly as fast or as slow as she chose to administer it to him, and then hold it, hold it for as long as she felt was necessary. She needed a nozzle which would force him to hold every drop, and she planned to lube it up just right with Tiger Balm, "Have you ever been given an enema, Oswald?" Fish asked Oswald conversationally as she was contemplating this.

                Oswald sniffled turning to her his lip jutting out in a well-defined pout as he warbled out a teary, “No. Please… I want to go home… haven’t I endured enough?” His breath hitched on new sobs as he feared the new would be torture.

                "No? Is that right? Never had an enema, huh? You look constipated to me, Oswald. I think that will have to change tonight," taunted Fish. "Tell me, are you constipated, Pengy? Has this change in your routine got your tummy hurting?"

 

                She patted his back in a way that she knew he would find humiliating, "Don't worry, baby. Mama's gonna' make that all better," she said.

                Oswald frowned turning away from her, so as not to give her further satisfaction from how much he knew she enjoyed making him still suffer.

                "You know...it’s very RUDE to ignore someone when they're talking to you," said Fish poking Oswald's back with her index finger.

                Immediately on edge, Oswald sputtered, "I... I'm sorry Miss Mooney!" The last thing he wanted to do was give Fish a reason to be angry with him. He spoke softly now, "If you would allow me to take a shower... I don't think I need any other special needs to... get clean." He didn't know why he still bothered trying to appeal to the woman as it was painfully clear she wanted him miserable, but some small part of him had to try in hopes she may take an ounce of mercy on him.

                Fish shook her head, "You say you're sorry," she said. "But you don't mean it. Doesn't matter though," she attached an enema nozzle to the end of the white tube that hung down from the gurney at the foot of the bed. "I've got you right where I want you anyway."

                Fish took the container of red cream off of the bed and unscrewed the cap. She plunged a finger into the containers contents and smeared it over the enema nozzle. Then, she inserted the nozzle into Oswald's butt. It slipped right in with little to no resistance. A black handled pump attached to the nozzle stuck out of Oswald's ass now, along with the white tube connected to the bag. However, there was currently a clip over the white tube of the enema, keeping the bag's contents safely inside.

                His heart thumped a little faster as he thought on her words and watched her lube the nozzle. He was grateful she had decided to grant him the courtesy of applying lube until she had inserted it. In moments his rectum began to burn and he instantly squirmed and wailed, "Ah! It burns! Ow! Ow! Please take it out!" His back arched and his ass pushed to try and expel the object, but Fish had it held steadily in place.

                Fish squeezed the hand pump sticking out of Oswald's ass inflating the nozzle. The nozzle grew steadily larger as she inflated it, until it became wedged firmly in place with no hope of removal. Fish gave the white tube a small tug just to check. Oswald's ass jerked forward slightly but the nozzle did not fall out.

                Oswald complained with whimpers and moans as Fish pumped the device pushing the nozzle firmly against the walls of his anus to settle the uncomfortable burning sensation, so that no matter what way he moved or twitched, there was no escaping from it.

                "There," said Fish. "Now you're ready to take your punishment, Oswald.” Her hand brushed the clamp over the white tube, "In a moment, your butt's going to be pumped full of a soapy enema solution. Your belly's going to expand and you're going to experience painful cramping....but I'll just keep filling you up and filling you up...until your belly's so tight...so tight that you feel like you're going to pop...like a water balloon. You made me do this, Oswald....because you're such a yellow rat snitch," said Fish.

 

                She popped the clasp of the white tube, allowing some but not all of the water to flow through it. A rushing sound filled the otherwise quiet empty room as gravity pulled a steady stream of the enema solution downward, toward the inflated nozzle lodged in Oswald's vulnerable rump, "We'll start slow and work our way through the bag," said Fish.

                His body tensed and trembled as he sucked in rapid breaths crying in protest awaiting the next horrible sensation to come, he had never had anything up his ass until today, and the multitude of different invasions left him feeling rather raw and terrified at what more Fish could possibly do to him that remained in the category of 'non-permanent damage.' He prayed Fish would be growing weary of their time together before he mentally snapped from the loss of self he'd had to endure and continued to endure. Just when he thought he could fall no further, Fish found a way he most certainly could.

                "That's right, take it," Fish crooned mockingly as she loosened the clasp on the tube, allowing more of the solution to be pumped into Oswald's ass. "Take your punishment. All of it. Right up your ungrateful ass. That's right. Keep going. There's plenty more where that came from. We've got all night...How's it feel, Oswald?

                Oswald felt helpless, but couldn't speak over the pain he felt gasping out inarticulate moans of anguish as he felt the liquid fill him. His body grew rigid writhing here and there as the cramping seemed too much to bare.

                Fish removed the clasp completely from the tube and then gave the bag a squeeze, causing a surge of water to rush into him. His belly grew taught and began to expand slightly, "I asked you a question," Fish growled.

                Practically screaming Oswald cried out, "Ah! Oh! Horrible! I'm going to burst!"

                "No you're not," said Fish, squeezing the bag again. "You can take plenty more."

                The bag was about half empty now. It was a large bag, the contents of which were more than enough to bloat him uncomfortably. The way he screamed and cried with just half of the enema in him made her think that perhaps he was being theatrical; acting more hurt than he actually was to spare himself further punishment. This frustrated her. She wanted to know that his misery was authentic.

                Fish sat back and watched as the rest of the enema was quickly forced up his butt by gravity. As the bag drained into him, it became flat. She could see his stomach now, painfully bloated. It hung down slightly through the front of his open robe. She had noticed a slight paunch there before, as a love of luxury and fine cuisine had already begun to take its toll on The Penguin's slender boyish frame. However, the curve of his stomach was certainly more pronounced now. Fish smirked evilly. He was certainly experiencing some pain. She decided that she would force him to hold it for a long time. Perhaps even overnight. It would torture him, sure. Probably he wouldn't sleep. But in the morning she could take him into the bathroom and deflate him again. He might feel sick for a while, spend a few days at home, lying on his stomach, on the couch, in front of the TV, with a tube of preparation-H and a bag of ice resting on his spanked ass, while his mother coddled him. But then he'd heal up fine. Fish would have had her revenge and Maroni will have gotten his precious little snitch back undamaged. Everyone will have gotten what they want.

                Oswald carried on with constant moans of distress as he pleaded with her through sobs to have mercy on him within minutes of feeling the extreme pressure he felt.

                Fish sat back and watched him, listening to his pathetic pleas, "You'll have to hold it for a while, Oswald," she said, making a point to not mention how long exactly he would be forced to hold it. She felt it was too kind to give him some hope of relief by telling him when the torture would stop.

                Oswald was lost in his own mind unable to concentrate on anything other than how bad he was feeling. His body shook with tremors as he mewled his pain.

                After a few hours’ time, Fish became bored with Oswald's sniveling. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was getting very late. She glanced back down at Oswald. He was trembling, his face twisted into a pained grimace from prolonged weeping. His whimpers of discomfort were so pitiful. She was beginning to forget again why she was so angry with him. She was becoming infected once more by that bizarre affection for him.

                Fish walked over to the bed and began untying the ropes which bound Oswald's wrists. They left deep rope burns on his skin, as Oswald's pointless struggles against his bondage had taken their toll over time.

                "Your punishment is over," she told him almost comfortingly. "I'm taking you to the bathroom now. In a few minutes you'll feel much better."

                Oswald was stunned to hear those words and had to wonder if it was a trick to get his hopes up. At this point though all he wanted was to get to the bathroom to feel the promised relief from the agony being cramped in this way caused. He gratefully cried, "Oh thank you Miss Mooney! I swear I'll never forget my place again!" He was sure that he would indeed never cross the woman again without knowing for sure to do so would be to finally kill her which at this point he felt much too cowed to even consider.

                Hobbling as quickly as he could muster, Oswald had to imagine he knew what a woman in labor must feel like as he moaned every pain-filled step behind Fish.

                Fish led Oswald to the bathroom. Once he was standing over the toilet, she twisted the nob on the pump, sticking out of the enema nozzle. This released the air in the nozzle, allowing it to be removed. After being deflated, the apparatus slid out easily. Fish removed it from Oswald's behind and then left the bathroom.

                Fish walked to the kitchen and started brewing some coffee. She put a couple of frozen waffles in the toaster and then sat down at the kitchen table allowing herself to wonder for the first time what exactly had motivated her during the events of the last couple of days. Sure she had a reputation to keep up, one built on a respect born of fear. Sure that reputation was contingent upon the execution of swift and brutal justice against her transgressors. Sure Oswald was one of those transgressors, perhaps the most dangerous one; the one that had come closest to bringing her down. All of this was true.

                However, she couldn't help but feel that the events of the last couple of days had occurred for another reason. A different reason. More selfish. Less businesslike. She had been motivated by pride; by a sense of fairness which she attributed to her high rank, sure. But there was something more than that. Wasn't there?

                Oswald was left on his own, and once he'd spent quite some time in the restroom, he stood shakily to stare at himself in the mirror. He looked like a train wreck and felt worse. He’d never felt so violated on so many levels. Oswald didn't want to leave the quiet of this secluded space, but lingering too long may cause Fish to become irritated, so Oswald sheepishly pulled the robe he wore tightly to himself as he made his way to the kitchen looking up momentarily at Fish before his eyes fell to the ground once more a deep blush coating his cheeks.

                Last night, before she had left the club, Fish had taken Oswald's clothes with her. Now they sat folded on one of the kitchen chairs. Fish motioned toward them, "Why don't you go put your clothes back on?" she said to Oswald. "I think I'll return you to your mother tonight. Let you shower in your own apartment."

                Fish walked over to the toaster. The frozen waffles were de-thawed. She put the waffles on a pair of plates and put the plates down at opposite ends of the table. If she was going to be rid of him for good now, it was probably better to get the whole thing over with. Drop him off at his apartment fast. No procrastinating. No finding excuses to keep him longer. Like pulling off a band-aide. That was the plan.

                Except she was a hypocrite because now she was finding an excuse to procrastinate by feeding him waffles.

                Oswald stared at his clothes slowly taking them as he watched her cautiously just waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when she made no move to hurt or threaten him further, he let himself believe that the torture finally was over. He wanted to cry again at the elated sense of overwhelming relief, but some small part of him couldn’t allow himself to celebrate just yet. When he knew he was finally free, he would permit those feelings to overtake him, but for now, he merely nodded as he gingerly stepped into his pants hissing as he drew them over the bruised and swollen flesh. He quietly removed the robe now folding it neatly and placing it in the chair before donning his shirt and coat.

                Once dressed, his eyes drifted to Fish studying her like a cornered wild animal readies itself to be attacked. Fish obviously wished for him to sit and dine with her, and so he pulled out the chair across from her and tentatively lowered himself into the chair with the waffle placed in front of it. A grimace crossed his face as his ass made full contact, and he moved about uncomfortably a moment before being able to still himself forcing a pained smile as he croaked out a barely audible, “Thank you.”

                Fish got some pancake syrup out of the fridge, poured it over her waffle, and sat down placing the syrup in the center of the table incase Oswald wanted to use it. She began eating.

                Oswald stared at the syrup a moment before reaching out a shaking hand to grab and pull it to him. The simple act of breakfast felt so out of place now. He poured some of the bottle's contents over his waffle moving the pastry around with his fork not having come down from the massive shock he still felt from having gone through everything Fish had done to him.

                He was quietly complacent now just staring hard at the table and contemplating if the game he had been playing before was really worth losing this badly. And he had lost badly; what Fish had done to him would physically heal, but Oswald knew with certainty that he would never be the same.

                Fish ate her breakfast slowly. She watched Oswald the entire time. Probably he didn't notice this as he was still staring directly downward.

                Fish finished eating. She put her fork down and continued to stare at Oswald. After today, he would be gone from her life forever. In a weird way, it made her sad.

                Having been lost in thought, he hadn't noticed Fish staring at him, but once he had, he turned questioning eyes to her unsure what her attention would garner him. The weight of her gaze worried him, and not wishing to seem aloof or rude he asked nervously, "Is everything alright Miss Mooney?"

                Startled by Oswald's sudden boldness, fish hesitated. Was everything alright? She really didn't know the answer to that question. She was experiencing a lot of confusing emotions. Emotions that were in her best interest to repress, "-Oh, yea...everything's fine," she responded after a while.

                Fish stood up and walked over to the door, "Eat your waffles, Oswald. When you're done with them, we'll leave," she said.

                He watched her as a dog watches its master awaiting direction. Upon her instruction, Oswald made a small slow nod and shifted his attention back to his waffle. The thought of leaving brought on consideration of his overall future. Where did he want to go from here? Could he suck up what she'd done to him in the face of that dullard Maroni who he was sure would have questions and make jokes on his behalf? The thought of doing so without snapping and slicing his throat open for ever giving him to her to suffer unspeakable tortures... this arrangement was Maroni's doing after all, and living with it where others were well aware was a hard pill to swallow. Killing Maroni would of course be a death sentence even if he got away with it as Falcone wanted him as a spy not to take Maroni's spot. If Falcone had any idea that his lap dog had teeth, he would likely see him as a threat and have Oswald eliminated.

                He'd always wanted power, more than lust for money, he wanted to be on top of the world, to be the man calling the shots. But now? He'd never live this down, and he had to wonder if he even had the stomach to keep trying to climb this ladder. This time he'd gotten off lucky with a clause of no permanent damage, and it was excruciating. The thought of what he could have been subject to if there were no clauses he didn't even want to contemplate. But he had somehow been granted a reprieve, and perhaps this was the wakeup call he needed to get out of this life and move on to something else less... fatal.

                He had finished his waffle through his musings and rose slowly plate in hand to shuffle over to place the dish in the sink. He turned back to face Fish now his eyes imploring as he awaited her next command.

                Fish grabbed her coat and put it on, "Let's go," she said to Oswald.

                Moving quickly to comply, Oswald followed Fish to her car pausing when they reached the vehicle hoping she didn't want him to climb back into the trunk again.

                Fish pointed to the passenger side of the car, "Get in," she said.

                A note of relief passed his face, and he opened the car carefully lowering himself onto the seat. His bottom was thoroughly sore inside and out. Oswald was sure it would take him at least a week to sit properly, and that thought made him frown into a pout.

                Fish got in the driver's side seat and drove through the city to the apartment building where Oswald's mother lived. She pulled into a parking space outside of the building and stopped the car.

                Oswald had remained silent bracing himself for anything, and he was almost surprised when Fish pulled in to the parking lot of his mother's apartment. He looked at her his heart racing as he croaked, "Are we even now?"

                Fish wasn't sure how to answer this question. She pushed a button on the inside of the driver's side door unlocking the doors of the car, "Get out," she said.

                Oswald's eyes widened as he scrambled to remove himself from her vehicle. She didn't have to tell him twice. He shuffled away from her car making his way towards the apartment entrance pausing to look back once more before disappearing around the corner.

                As Fish watched Oswald disappear into the apartment building, she couldn't help but feel a strange and involuntary yet profound sense of loss. Despite herself, she had grown fond of the funny little man. She remembered when he used to work for her; carrying her umbrella; massaging her feet; fetching her drinks. He had seemed so harmless back then; so spastic and timid. She had trusted him back then. She had liked trusting him. He had been such a good listener; so attentive; so flattering; so gentlemanly. She'd let down her guard around him. Then, he'd played her like a gullible fool.

                Now Fish was plagued by an inescapable and all-encompassing sadness, for in spite of herself and in spite of everything that had happened, the only man she would ever love was gone. Her heart was broken. This secret she would take with her to her grave.


End file.
